October and April
by xxenigma9291
Summary: This is your problem. You have no Faith. And this is your problem. You're too shallow.


I have a few ideas storming into my head right now that I want to write for this fan fiction, so I have everything planned out ahead on a separate document. Unlike other fics, I'm not gonna post everything quote by quote and scene by scene, only the essential. It would take three billion chapters to get out twenty-two episodes word for word along with my own scenes in this story so I'm only writing the essential for you readers out there. Anyhow, this is my first Supernatural fan fiction, and to be quite honest, I'm a little _tense_about this [for lack of a better word] so don't complain, please ;  
Any who, I'm gonna quit talking before I start rambling on. Please rate and review and give ideas if you'd like! I'd love to take anything into consideration. This first fanfic will be based on Season 4, so there will definitely be a sequel to this.

**Note**: Castiel won't appear until probably the second or third chapter of the story. You'll get to find out certain pieces of the character before Castiel makes his official appearance, so don't expect him to zap here until the second or third chapter.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural or any relative to it either. So don't tell on me, please ._.;

* * *

**September 18, 2008  
**_It's hard to believe that this is the seventh journal in my life. I never thought I'd actually be writing like an auto-biography about myself and have them set up in my shelf. I look back a lot in my journals and read through the old days of how my life was before I got involved into this whole mess and I think to myself 'what would've happened if I would've taken the easy path like any regular Jane Doe?'. Maybe I would've ended up in this same position one way or another since fate could sometimes be a little cruel. I guess that's how every hunter's life is cut out to be in the end, right? There's no happy ending, and there's no going back. Once you set your foot into the wrong territory, you're bind to it until your time comes and you're six feet under._

_It's been four months ever since I lost a close friend of mine. I've known him for a while, maybe not as long as some people, but I feel like I've known the guy for a life time. Life hasn't really been easy since he left, and honestly, I can see why. The last time we saw each other, we didn't part on such good terms. This guilty feeling I feel is getting harder to deal with every day. I started to drown my sorrows in the bathtub, and just sit there thinking about everything that's happened. I'm not the only one that he left behind though. He left a very depressed father-figure behind as well as a younger brother who's gone M.I.A._

_I keep telling myself that I'll see the guy again, and that maybe one day he'll just pop through Bobby's door and just welcome himself inside. C'mon. Like that would ever happen. For four months, I've lived with Bobby and have helped him in whatever he needs. Whenever he goes on a few hunts, I stay at home and just help him with the research. I quit hunting, and I'm not turning my head back into hunting. With Sam somewhere in the world, and Dean six feet under, I just became a regular stay-at-home adult with no job, limited money from my horrible day job, and no future. I would've been happy if I would've died on the job someday, but living with these emotions? The pain, the guilty, the agony?_

_And that's all . . . ?_

"Max? Are you comin' down any time soon? I need you to do a favor for me!" Bobby's voice rang downstairs from the room Max was in, lifting herself up from the bed. After closing the front cover of her journal, she carefully slid herself away from the sheer comfort of the bed and lifted up the mattress, sliding the journal underneath. A perfect hiding spot. That way, no one would know where her personal writing's were.

Without answering to his call, Max simply pushed open the door slowly and walked down the corridors of the second floor until she met with the stairs. Maybe today will be the day to finally trip down the stairs and land up in a coma for the rest of my life until they pull the plug, Max often thought every time she came face to face with the stairs. Maybe today would be the day someone would pull the plug of her life stream and just finish everything. Climbing down the stairs and finally stepping onto the ground, a sigh was released from her lips. Today wasn't her lucky day after all.

The depression kept getting worse every day with some new crazy thoughts drilled into her head. No one blamed her for being that way, but then again, Max had a habit of simply giving up on herself whenever she lost someone close to her. It was like her first nightmare was being put on replay over and over again.

Almost as if sensing her presence near the kitchen, Bobby started to talk while she entered the room. "Next time the phone rings, answer it".

The young woman lifted up a brow, baffled at this favor of his. As if on cue, the phone began to ring from the wall, causing the girl to roll her eyes. What a lazy guy, she thought to herself. It wasn't that hard to answer the phone so why did he want her answering it? She walked over towards the corner of the wall and answered the phone, placing a free hand on her hip. She remained quiet without bothering to greet the caller, glancing over Bobby's direction with a questioning look. All he did was give her a blank stare, and eyed the phone after wards. The next set of words released is what made the hair's in the back of Max's neck rise along with the goosebumps surfacing on her skin.

"_...Bobby, listen to me_".

It was like she lost her voice at that moment, or probably her lungs; she found it almost hard to breath and struggled a little to even hitch a breath. Slowly backing up towards the wall, she turned her attention to the phone, her occupied hand starting to tremble from the emotions surging through her body.

"You're makin' a mockery out of his name, you son of a bitch. You call this house again, and I'll gauge your eyes out". Immediately after wards, she hanged up the phone and glanced at Bobby with terror in her eyes, receiving a sigh after wards.

"This is the third time it's called. Could be a demon, or a shape shifter or somethin', but I know it can't be him".

Max glanced out the window and narrowed her eyes, keeping a careful look outside as she folded her arms across her chest. It couldn't be Dean, could it? No. Impossible. He was in Hell. He died four months ago, and would never come back. What's dead stayed dead, unless someone was messing with the dead and bringing him to life. Maybe it was a zombie, or something. She couldn't figure out what the hell was going on.

"Whatever it is doesn't know who it's messin' with. If we ever see that thing, we're gonna kill it".

The call was more than enough to make the woman angry, and drown back into her little depression. How dare that creature even try to imitate his voice? How dare he! Max decided to release the tension in her body with a quick bath and cool herself down before she decided to punch the wall for the millionth time. She was in the shower for what seemed to be centuries, really. She was in there for about an hour and a half straight, doing nothing but let the water fall onto her lithe frame. She wasn't gonna let this get to her. She had to be strong, right? She had no choice but to be strong, right?

After a while, Max was already dressed up in a casual outfit that she normally wore whenever she would go out hunting. A nice pair of dark-rinsed jeans and a white tank-top with a raven vest. It seemed to match her perfectly, especially bring out the rich color of her hazel eyes. Glancing at the mirror in the bathroom, she stared right back at her reflection, watching how much time has really started catching up to her. Although she was young, one could see she was in fact tired. The exhaustion wasn't visible to the naked eye, but the slight bags in her eyes? It was hard to miss. That was all to the sleepless nights for four months. They still haven't left her face at all. Releasing a sigh, she brush her damp hair back and stepped out of the bathroom, heading towards her room. Right when she was about to open the door though, voices became audible, coming from downstairs.

"-been buried four months! Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit-"

"I know. I should look like a Thriller video reject".

That voice. It was the same one from the phone, which could only mean one thing.

* * *

"What do you remember?" Bobby inquired, eager to wonder just how he popped out of Hell. He couldn't have just crawled out of the pit, right?

Dean remained quiet for a small moment, recollecting the bits and pieces that slowly came back to his mind.

"Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then lights out. Then I come to six feet under, and that was it".

He paused for a minute before biting down on his bottom lip.

"Sam's number's not working. He's uh...he's not..." He trailed off, almost fearing for the worst. Sam was still alive. He had to be.

Before Bobby could even begin to explain, the noise of a cocking gun could be heard entering the room, with two pair of eyes turning their attention to the one wielding the firearm.

"As far as we know, Sam is still up and kickin' but right now you're 'bout to go back right where you came from, you filthy scumbag!".

Bobby immediately sat up with a jolt while Dean placed his hands up defensively, a look of shock spread across his face. What the hell was she on? It was really him, and she was on the verge to shooting him! Quickly, the Winchester took a few steps towards Max, hands still lifted into the air, but Max quickly shot a glare and placed her finger right on the trigger of her Beretta.

"You take a single step closer and I swear to God I'll shoot you where you stand!" She screamed in a low tone, her hands trembling slowly as he took back a step.

"Maxie! It's me, it's really me!" Dean countered with a reassuring expression, although Max looked far from buying that excuse.

"Oh yeah? Maybe you fooled Bobby over there, but you can't fool me that easily!".

Dean swallowed harshly and took a half step forward, Max already aiming right towards his chest and preparing to pull the trigger.

"Your name is Maxine Holbrooke, you were born in Richmond, Virginia, and you're like family to me!".

At this point, Max was torn between truth and reality; she wanted to believe that this was really Dean and not some cruel sick joke from a creature. Something inside of her told her that it was really him, but she had to face the true facts. He was ripped apart, bloody and dead. How could someone look completely brand new after four months, not to mention popping out of the ground like the living dead?

Prove it!".

Bobby stepped towards her and placed a hand on her wrist, lowering down her arms forcefully.

"Max, it's him. I did the whole routine check and it's really him. It's Dean!".

The woman remained stunned for a few seconds at lost of words, until she directed her attention from the gun towards Dean. Her expression changed the moment she looked into his eyes, letting the anger and depression subside. She could see clearly now, the way he looked at her and the life he had in his eyes. No demon or any other creature could have a lively expression since they were all just dead creatures with no hearts. Dean had a heart, regardless of his asshole demeanor.

"I'm not a demon, I'm not a shifter or anything, Maxie. If you want me to bleed a river of blood for you to prove it, then-" He didn't even have time to finish his sentence. Max had immediately dove towards his direction and embraced the male tightly, warmth still surrounded his body despite being dug underground for four months. It was as if he had never died; no marks, no wounds or injuries, nothing was on him. She couldn't believe it at all that this was Dean Winchester, the man who got torn into tiny pieces and put back together like a puzzle.

* * *

**September 18, 2008**  
_I had to write back a second entry today and that's a little rare for me to do, especially since I never write twice in one day. He's back! He's back! At first I thought it was a demon or some kind of shifter or something, but I promise you, it's really him! Dean is back from Hell! I don't know how but he's back! He's downstairs talking to Bobby since I decided to rush up here and write what just happened! It's a miracle that he's back!_

_Now that reminds me, how is he back? Or rather, who brought him back? His soul couldn't have just jumped back into his skin and run like an energizer bunny out of the blue. Some kind of force has to be behind this, but the question is, who or what-_

Before Max could even write the rest of her thoughts onto the half blank paper in front of her, a small cough could be heard from the door way as she glanced up, meeting Dean's eyes with a wide grin.

"Even after four months, you're still a little walkin' bookworm".

She closed the book and placed it underneath the bed, nodding towards him as she lifted herself from the ground.

"You know I'm obsessed with writing. It helps me go through the day".

A small bit of silence was pressed against them before Max trailed her attention towards the ground, her grin suddenly spiraling down to a frown. The Winchester noticed this rather quickly and took a step closer.

"Dean, listen. I know I was being a complete douche to you those last few days we were all together and-".

He immediately silenced her with his hand in the air, shaking it towards her with a serious expression.

"Just drop it. I'm not in the mood for chick-flick moments. Besides, it was in the heat of the moment and we were all kinda angry and rushed so just leave it at that".

"Dean, but I-"

"Ah ah ah! I didn't come here for a chick-flick moment. I actually came to tell you that..."

He paused for a minute as he placed a broad hand on her shoulder.

"I managed to track down Sam. He's in Pontiac, Illinois. 263 Adams Road. We're gonna go look for him and you're comin' with us".

She immediately lifted up a brow and folded her arms across her chest.

"You're seriously expecting me to go talk to him after he's gone missing for four months straight? We didn't exactly part on good terms, Dean. The moment I see him, I think I might stick him and-"

"We can argue about this in the car. C'mon! It'll be like good ol' times goin' down the road, except Bobby's with us".

Nothing lasts forever. Life didn't last forever. A lesson had been learned today that Max would never forget. Life could only be lived one time and one time only. You couldn't take life for granted no matter what the circumstances, even if you were mad at someone who was a good friend of yours. Maybe things could be settled once they saw each other just like things were settled between Dean and herself.

Max rolled her eyes, giving into his pleads. She simply glanced up towards the male and placed a childish pout expression on her face.

"Fine. But I want to stop for some ice-cream first".


End file.
